Sparks & Spaces Between
by lost frequencies
Summary: These feelings for her have been kept repressed for thousands of vorns. Optimus plans to keep it that way. TF:Prime; takes place after "Scrapheap".
1. 00 Prologue

**Prologue  
><strong>

_It's been an honour serving with you, Optimus Prime._

Two and a half hours have gone by since Arcee conveyed her parting words and the ground bridge has yet to reappear.

She sprawls motionless in the snow, her cyan optics staring weakly into the great whiteness of the Arctic blizzard. Reminiscence of spending leisurely afternoons racing alongside Cliffjumper and Bumblebee across the scorching Nevada desert is the only thing that's keeping her circuits running...at least for a little while.

She tilts her head back to look up at Optimus who's resting against the wall of their snowy shelter. Despite the sub-zero temperatures, the Autobot leader seems gravely calm and alert.

The wind is picking up. Snow clouds her vision. Memories of warmth have all dissipated and now she's reminded of her fallen comrades and Jack, the young human she's grown to appreciate so much.

While here on Earth's edge, in the idlest and coldest moment of her life, grief finds a way back into her system, sending shudders throughout her lithe, metallic frame.

Arcee calls out to her comrade through sharp gasps. Upon hearing her distress, Optimus breaks his gaze away from the relentless storm and watches her closely.

"Stay with me, Cliff," she says softly. "Don't let my lights go out here."

Primus forbid that he'll lose her to the polar storm this soon. Rather than try to break Arcee away from her current delusion, Optimus pulls her closer toward his bulky frame in hopes to shield her from the merciless wintry gust.

"You can rest assured," he says in an unfaltering tone of voice, "that I will never leave your side, Arcee."

Optimus reaches out to his comrade and tightens his grip on her delicate hand.

"I made my promise to avenge you. This isn't the time and place. Not what I envisioned. I won't succumb until I find the Con responsible for taking you away from us."

"Arcee—"

"Give me this one chance, Cliff. I'll find him." She shudders. "You have my word."

The snow storm shows no sign of subsiding. Optimus rests his optics and prepares himself for the imminent loss of another esteemed comrade's spark and eventually, his.


	2. 01  Contemplating the Petrolux

**Chapter 1 – Contemplating the Petrolux**

_I will grieve every Autobot and every innocent who dies. That is what separates me from Megatron._

Most nights are spent in quiet reflection and looking up at the stars for signs. Some nights are spent driving alone through the canyons and watching over humankind. Tonight, Optimus finds himself seated quietly next to a powered down Arcee undergoing a thorough defrosting procedure on the med berth. Her systems are stabilising yet he couldn't help but feel the guilt weighing down on him over the near loss of a comrade.

Several hours have passed since their return from the Arctic. Now with their human friends gone, the Autobot base seems void of banter and camaraderie. Ratchet busies himself with monitoring the computers amidst the chaotic mess caused by Scraplets. Bulkhead and Bumblebee have retreated to their berths to recharge.

After much restlessness, the Autobot leader rises—slowly—before leaving for the command center to check on Ratchet.

The medic hears his leader approaching. "Optimus," he greets, while keeping his optics focused on the holographic screens in front of him. "Shouldn't you be recharging?"

Optimus lets out a subtle mechanical grunt and ensconces himself on a nearby platform. "I would ask the same of you."

Ratchet turns and smiles at him. It's an after hour routine they've come to cherish since they've known each other. "Excuse the mess," he says while reaching for a stainless steel jug filled with dark, viscous beverage. "Miko has promised to help with cleaning out the base tomorrow."

Optimus raises an optical ridge. "What about the other children?"

The medic starts pouring the liquid into two containers. "Rafael and Jack have other...urm, weekend family obligations to attend to."

"Ratchet. You know that it's wrong to—"

"Oh don't worry." The medic waves a hand at Optimus before turning away to hide that crafty smile etched on his face. "She's gladly offered her assistance and I'm more than pleased to accept it."

"We shall all resume our chores together tomorrow. Let's hope it'll never happen again. Thank Primus that our human friends were here to aid us through."

"Indeed. It's been a _long_ day." Ratchet replies, as he takes a seat beside Optimus. "Now. Since neither of us is planning on heading back to our berths tonight, how about some Petrolux to indulge your processors, hmm?"

The Autobot leader looks at the container Ratchet is offering him. "Petrolux?" he asks suspiciously. "I've never heard of it."

"It was the result of Bumblebee's and Cliffjumper's boredom-infused experiment. High grade, earth-sourced fuel, with a hint of energon. It's as close to Maccadam's Visco you'll ever get!" Ratchet's system seems to be running high tonight. There's no doubt in Optimus's mind that the Autobot medic has had one too many servings of Petrolux.

Optimus accepts the container but doesn't intend to drink it.

"There used to be a tank filled with this stuff." Ratchet continues, "Now I'm just trying to finish off what's left of it. Everyone seems to have grown sick of it but not me. It does its job keeping me charged up through the night."

"And does Bumblebee intend to make more of this fusion beverage?"

Ratchet shakes his head and releases a sigh through his vents. "We can't afford to waste any more of our energon supply on such a frivolous experiment. And since Cliffjumper's passing, Bumblebee...has lost interest."

"His passing has indeed affected us all," concludes Optimus.

Ratchet downs his last swig for the night. Silence fills the base once again.

Optimus rests his optics upon the container in his hand. He studies the beverage inside it, finally catching a whiff of nostalgia. It certainly does smell like Maccadam's Visco, the once popular and intoxicating beverage amongst Cybertronians.

He now understands why his younger comrades resorted to concocting something that would remind them of home. It's been eons since they left Cybertron and journeyed across the stars. Now there's nothing left, save for their collective strength and Optimus's guidance toward victory.

So in the name of honour, Optimus takes his first, and last, swig of Petrolux.

For Cliffjumper.

For Humankind.

For Cybertron.


End file.
